Valley of Death
by Xerios
Summary: Jack's trapped on a planet that's in the middle of a war, surviving the hell its turned into until one lucky break allows her to escape...and run into an old friend.
1. Prologue : Of Hell and War

Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters from Pitch Black, although if I had my way I would.

Note : Watched the movie the other day, got bored and decided to do my take on what happens afterwards. I wasn't that fond of Chronicles or some of the other Jack/Riddick fics that I found out there. Not that some of them weren't good, hell, some of them were really good, but I wanted to do my own take, so, yeah. Here it is.

**Valley of Death**

Prologue : Of Hell and War

_ Seven fucking years and they're still fighting over this worthless ball of dust. That's what the planet is now, nothing but dust and ashes, remnants of cities that used to stand there glittering on the horizon like so many jewels. I remember first setting foot there, just before the war began, escaping the ship I'd stowed away in on New Mecca with such ease that I was quite sure no one would ever figure out where I had gone. The sun had been setting and the sky was the color of an amber rose and then, not a month after looking up at that sky and feeling the hope that my fucked up life would from that day forward change, did the first guns fire and the first bombs drop._

_ They weren't nukes, no, humanity had learned from the disaster that was Earth that nukes weren't the answer to all of life's little problems. However, blowing things up was still a military fashion trend. It seemed like every gun toting convoy had one of the new pulse bombs or handful of plasma grenades ready to throw at the enemy or any mob of civilians that got in the way. Life is a picnic when your running away from nationalistic psychos whose greatest goals in life is to die killing someone because some asshole in the government can't get over his ego enough to say 'Hey, why don't we stop dropping bombs and start seeing what the people want for a change'._

_ They are all such fucking morons. It pisses me off that they never once thought what would happen to the rest of us when they started fighting. It pisses me off even more when I hear somebody talk about how proud they are that a relative of theirs is off fighting for whatever faction they favor. Sometimes I just want to shout in their faces the gritty truth, that the war is just another display of how little the Company gives a shit about the people whose lives it controls. _

_ I despise those bombs and the people who carry them around like some kind of sick badge. Hell, I avoid people altogether, because things are a lot different among the people of Kartos now a days. While the factions fight their selfish war the civilians fight their own just trying to get through the day without getting killed. It's chaos, panic, and disorder, all rolled up into a neat little word called 'anarchy' and, surprisingly, I don't mind it at all. _

_ My turf has been staked out for three years now; all the local thugs know it and avoided my mansion like it's bearing some kind of deadly disease. I am, of course, that disease, for I proved my mettle long ago when the war had just started and the gangs had first formed. The leader of one had gotten an eye for me, had come right into my old hiding place at a warehouse where the downtown area used to be, and tried to have his way._

_ I still remembered his face, scarred from some brawl and his hands rough against my skin as he shoved me around, looking like he was getting some kind of high off of hitting me. I can recall every bruise and every cut that he gave me that night. I can count every scar. I can still hear his shout when I slammed the crowbar against shins so hard that the bone nearly shattered. His plea still rings in my mind every time I remember taking that same crowbar to his skull. I can still smell the blood staining my hands. That bastard didn't know who he was messing with when he messed with me._

_ The mansion wasn't mine originally, hell, I don't know who the fuck it belonged to originally, it was so looted by the time I got there, the front doors were even missing. The yard was knee deep in scraggly weeds and there were burnt patches on the ground and the outside walls from when the troops passed through in their arguments. I've watched from the upstairs window as they shot at each other in the streets, their blood pouring down into the sewers like rain water. I found out quickly that watching people die from that vantage point is a good way to stop caring when it's your hands actually doing the work. I stay upstairs most of the time now, only venturing out to find food or to replenish my lamp bulbs, because, even now I still dislike the darkness. I'm nineteen almost twenty and I'm still afraid of the fucking dark._

_ There's one thing I'm grateful for and that's the non-electric water system built into the mansion. There's no hot water, but there's plenty of plain water so I can use it to barter with if I needed anything extra, like cigarettes or the occasional and hard to come by beer. I'm not even old enough to drink legally yet but who fucking cares now? Nobody cares about anything any more, except maybe staying alive._

_ No one bothers me here; I'm completely alone in my castle, watching the war go by. Alone in a little town I've had renamed 'Hell', just as a reminder._


	2. CH One : To Hell in a Hand Basket

Disclaimer : Don't own Jack or any other characters from the movie that will inevitably appear, although I'm sure everyone knows exactly which of the characters I would like to own. looks innocently up at the ceiling

Note : No violence yet, sorry. Thankyou GeZel for your review,I'll try not to peeve you off. And thankyou Lena for your review, I'll try and keep it interesting.

**Valley of Death**

Chapter One : To Hell in a Hand Basket

Jack snapped awake to the sound of mortar shells firing through the air, a sound she hadn't heard in a month, so she had subconsciously thought that the war had finally stopped. The air smelled like smoke and gunfire, and she let her head fall back on the pillow with a groan.

_Dream on, Jack. They're not gonna stop just for you._

Sighing in irritation at the noise, she sat up in her makeshift bed and stretched her arms out over her head, stifling a yawn. Early morning sunlight filtered in through the broken windows as she clambered out of bed and shut off the lamp she'd fixed to the wall above her bed. Grabbing under her makeshift pillow for the gun she kept hidden there, Jack strapped it over her shoulder with a practiced ease.

She sat down next to the bed and pulled on her boots, making sure the mechanisms for the secret blades in the heels and toes still worked before tying up the laces tight around her ankles. She then reached over to the table she had scrounged and picked up her gloves, pulling them onto her hands one at a time before knotting those laces as well. That done she picked herself up off the floor and walked out of her room and out onto the inner balcony of her castle, grabbing the rope she had tied to replace the stairs from the last round of troops that had come through. With a small jump and an agile twist she was able to slide down the rope to the bottom floor.

Her boots hit the cracked floor with a hollow thud and she released the rope, walking on through the rubble of the front doors and out into the desecrated morning sunshine that drowned the town in light. Jack scanned the sky and saw smoke in the distance off to her left, knowing immediately that they'd hit the school It was one of the only other relatively intact buildings left besides her own little castle and an old garage on the outskirts. There weren't that many people left in the town, just a few who barely scraped by just like herself. She didn't know their names and they didn't know hers, after all, what was the use of making friends when either one of you could wake up dead because some soldier's fire missed its intended target.

It wasn't like she didn't miss human contact, still talked with anyone she could, trying to find out the off-world news, but people started looking at you funny if you were concerned about things other than the local war.

_Like I should still fucking care about **them**. They're both probably dead anyways, so why the fuck do I keep asking? It's like there's some kind of invisible string tying my thoughts back to **them**. DAMN IT! Why can't I just fucking forget **them**?_

The ruins were quiet except for the echo of gun fire and Jack played with the idea of getting close enough to the camps to steal a real gun and some extra ammo, but decided against it in practical terms. She had plenty of ammunition for her current gun, old as it was, and lots of other useful pieces of weaponry collected over the years of her accidental exile. Right now she needed to focus on getting some food to last the next few days and maybe a little longer, and pickings were scarce as it was without risking her life. If she had to, she'd raid the dead after the fighting was done, taking their freeze-dried rations before anyone came to collect their tags for identification purposes.

_All of them, they're just numbers. No one really cares that they lived and died. They're just statistics on somebody's score board._

Shrugging past that thought with a barely suppressed shudder, Jack cut down the lawn of her mansion and through a burnt out house, entering what used to be the commercial district. The first few cafeterias and restaurants had been cleaned out by looters but there were a few markets that still had some canned goods. It was towards these that she headed, ignoring the distant sounds of the dying. The sun rose higher as she reached the shadows of the once thriving building, the windows long since shattered along with the entire west wall. She still remembered that day, so fresh was it that she could smell the burning flesh of those who'd been unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast. Luckily for her the west wall had housed perishable goods and a year later there was still enough in the back stock to feed herself.

Bypassing the toppled shelves and the gnawed boxes of moldy cereal she filtered through the doors into the back of the ruined store where all the stock used to be kept. There were still crates full of canned fruits and meats, even some soups and noodles, so much that more than once she wondered if she could lug one of them back with her. But the crates were huge and despite how much her strength had increased over the years, there was not much she could do to lift even one of them. So she contented herself with gathering up as many cans as she could carry, which was about seven, before heading out of the building through the back way.

The gunfire suddenly went silent as she stepped outside and Jack instantly froze, stepping back into the doorway and looking around in case the cause of the sudden silence was nearby. Then an air-tearing sound grated at her ears as an air craft flying far too low for comfort screamed by overhead, the slipstream shrieking against its hull in protest. She looked up at the sky and saw the bomb thirty seconds before it hit, her eyes going wide as she ran in the opposite direction of its intended path of descent. Dropping her cans she nearly stumbled as she reached the inner door casting a glance over her shoulder as it hit the ground and for an instant time froze.

_No, not now! Not today!_

The whole back wall of the store shattered inwards, bricks and mortar raining parallel towards her, some scraping her skin as she dove to the floor others smashing around her in smoldering blocks of soot. Jack covered her head with her hands as the worst of the debris fell around her, food forgotten in order to focus on staying alive beyond this moment. When the destruction had finished and there was nothing but a smoldering crater in the street outside where the back wall had been, she sat up and looked around, coughing from the dust that had gotten into her lungs.

She stood up shakily, unnerved by how close she had come to getting killed this time, then, like the last five times she'd nearly bit the bullet, in every literal sense of the phrase, she went back to what she had previously been doing. Some of the crates were smashed and trashed, but there were some cans still intact so she gathered herself up some more, managing only five this time, for all the other ones were busted open and leaking. Estimating that this would last only about three days, Jack shook her head grimly and turned to go, but a creaking sound overhead called desperately for her attention.

Looking up, she saw a slow trickle of dust falling from the ceiling and she slowly backed away, her muscles disbelieving what her brain had just figured out. After what seemed like forever, her legs finally got the message that it was time to move but by then it was too late. With a resounding crash the roof collapsed, plaster and beams falling down over her like the whole entire sky had shattered. One of the lighter non-support beams caught her on the head as gravity claimed it and she dropped like a stone amongst the rubble, cans scattered and forgotten in the pain.


	3. CH Two : Alone in the Dark

Disclaimer : Nope, still not mine…Yet…

Note : Still no violence. Forget what I said before about dividing this into two stories. I'm just gonna keep on writing till my keyboard breaks.

**Valley of Death**

Chapter Two : Alone in the Dark

A sharp pain in her head cut into Jack's consciousness, forcing her back into the reality of her war torn world. She struggled to move, debris falling away from her as she forced herself up from the floor with both of her aching arms. Her eyes met nothing but darkness as they opened and a sudden hateful fear seized her heart, it was night and she was all alone.

_Shit, this fucking sucks. And shit! My head fucking hurts!_

Raising a shaking hand to her forehead she felt the stickiness of half-dried blood and the sharp sting of a shallow cut. Taking a deep breath she climbed unsteadily to her feet, trying to see through the shadows but there wasn't even a faint light from the stars for her eyes to adjust to. The strap of her gun was gone from her shoulder and she cursed under her breath, not only had she lost her food but now her primary means of self-defense was buried beneath the rubble.

As if it couldn't get any worse, thunder rumbled overhead, threatening to drop the first torrential rain in weeks and there was nowhere for her to go. Coughing, Jack stumbled towards where the wall of the store used to be, tripping twice before she reached the cracked pavement of the street. It echoed beneath her boot clad feet as lightning suddenly snapped across the sky, illuminating the avenue for just one brief moment, allowing her to see.

_Holy fucking crap!_

That factionary second of light revealed the extent of the damage the bomb had done, for not even a half meter away from where she was standing now was the edge of a crater that engulfed half the street, the corner of the store she had come from, and the entire building across from it. The street around it that remained intact was scorched beyond recognition along with anything else that might have been standing to close. The lethal radius of the blast was two meters shy of where she had been when the bomb had dropped, if she had been any closer she would have died and this realization simply reminded her that she didn't want to be there anymore.

Forced to find another path back to her makeshift home, Jack turned the other way and stumbled diagonally down the street, a hand reaching out for anything that might be in her way. Her fingertips brushed against a hard stone wall and using this as her guide she followed it to the next corner, turning into the next street as yet another fork of lightning cracked open the sky. This one showed her a dead empty street and no sooner had that light faded did the rain come barreling down, like a dam breaking loose in the heavens.

Sputtering more curses, Jack started forward again, bracing herself against the wall, but soon she was soaked through to the skin. Shivering as she wiped water away from her face with her free hand, she paused for a moment to clean the cut on her forehead of the dust that had invaded when the roof of the store had fallen. It stung a little but she'd had worse injuries before just on this planet alone, like that scar that asshole had given her. Grumbling a few more curses as her thoughts flickered back towards that incident, she felt along the wall again, using her free hand to keep the water out of her eyes, not that it did any good.

_Damn, if I could just find a door or a window._

As if on cue her hand fell forward into empty space, the hollow shell of what used to be a window frame. Refraining from cheering, Jack clambered through, boots crunching stale glass on the interior floor, a puddle of dripping water soon forming at her feet. She placed a hand on the inside wall and followed it to a corner and there she sat down, gathering her knees up to her chest as the storm raged outside. The darkness swirled around her unbroken except for brief flashes of lightning that faded too fast to be of much comfort.

Jack had never been afraid of the dark before that fateful day seven years before, when the suns had gone out on that desert planet and everyone around her kept dying. It was enough to make her shiver even now, the reason why she always stuck well to the daylight and slept with at least one light on at all times. Getting caught in the dark was not her idea of fun and the rain just made it all the worse. Somewhere in the night something exploded, as things were apt to do and she hugged her knees closer to her chest, ruing the day she'd left New Mecca behind.

_Hell, yeah, great name for a place like this. I didn't expect hell to be so fucking dreary._


	4. CH Three : Mechanical Pencils

Disclaimer : Still not mine.

Note : And here's some violence. As for where Riddick is, well, we'll find that out soon.

**Valley of Death**

Chapter Three : Mechanical Pencils

The dim grey light that always precedes dawn greeted Jack's pupils as she opened her eyes again, slightly disoriented because she hadn't realized she had fallen asleep. Her clothes were still damp and her joints were stiff as she moved to stand up, using the wall to balance herself as she climbed slowly to her feet. It was then that she heard them, the faint rustle of clothes and the heavy weight of footsteps crossing the floor.

_SHIT!_

Jack's head snapped up and she saw them, three by her count and all of them ugly as hell. The closest one leered at her with lustful eyes that hungrily flicked up and down her frame, and she barely suppressed a disgusted shudder. He stepped closer to her, the unpleasant smell of alcohol and dirt invading her nose, and she gave him her best 'don't fuck with me' look. He saw that and grinned, a golden tooth flashing as his buddies let out a laugh.

Unperturbed, Jack stood up straighter, sidestepping and keeping her back to the wall as she watched them. She was tired, hurt, and extremely pissed off at herself for falling asleep in this place anyways, so the fact that this group of ugly fuckers looked intent on having some fun with her placed them at the top of her shit list. Her knee bumped into something, stopping her path of escape and forcing her to focus on the current setting rather than these prospective antagonists. The building used to be a library, she could tell by the bookshelves that were scattered all over the floor and she had just ran into the reception desk.

Looking back up, she saw that they had drawn closer, still smiling in their half-drunk stupors and obviously put on by her apparent attempt at escape. This pissed her off even more, but she forced herself to keep her cool, at least for another few minutes anyway. She leaned one hand back on the desk behind her, fingers running over the dust and the scattered contents of its drawers before closing over something that would possibly prove useful. As she did this she looked directly into the first thug's eyes, suppressing the sudden urge to vomit and keeping her expression as cold as she could manage.

"You look new in town," she observed, coating her voice with ice. "So I'll let you off with a warning."

"Oh really?" the lead thug asked, his words coming out clearly, indicating he wasn't as drunk as Jack had originally thought. "A warning? That's funny."

"That's what the last guy said," Jack replied, gaze darkening. "Before the crowbar smashed his skull."

"I don't see no crowbar, sweet thing," the lead thug remarked, gold tooth flashing as he stepped closer to her, leaning in towards her face.

_Enjoy you're last moments, you sick son of a bitch._

That same grin was plastered on his face as he reached out a hand to touch her and that's when she struck. Before the tips of his fingers could even graze her skin, Jack snapped her hand up, shoving whatever it had found on the desk into his throat. A look of painful surprise crossed his scuffed up and dirty face as the sharp end of an old but still intact mechanical pencil was jammed into his throat, leaking blood down his neck. Jack pulled the pencil back out just as hard as she could, causing more than just a chunk of flesh to accompany it.

With a gurgling sound, he fell backwards to the floor with a resounding thud, bubbles of blood bursting from where his vocal chords used to be. Within seconds he had drowned in his own blood and his buddies were staring down at his lifeless corpse with bleary and astounded eyes.

"Holy shit," said one of them, eyes widening. "Jim's dead!"

With that great observation they both looked back up at Jack and started forward, lust replaced by anger at the sudden loss of their comrade, not that Jack cared in the least. She could smell and see the blood, and it was enough to send the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Without much effort she shoved off from the desk, feinting a lunge towards the two of them. They reacted exactly as she expected and at the last possibly moment she kicked her feet up, popping the blades hidden in the soles. The toe blade of her right foot sunk into the flesh of one's thigh, slicing through the femoral artery with almost no resistance. The heel blade of her left foot slammed into his knee, digging into the cartilege just above the cap and causing him to scream out in pain.

Jack fell to the floor, her boots and the legs of her pants now drenched completely in blood. Ignoring this sickly sweet fact, she spun on the ground, sweeping the last thug with her left toe blade, slicing apart his achilles tendon. He went down just like his friend, shrieking at his sudden in ability to stand, but Jack wasn't done with him yet.

With a hiss she slammed the pencil into his chest as hard as she could and it went right between two of his ribs, puncturing his right lung and ending his scream. Jack didn't bother to pull it back out as he thrashed in his last moments of life and instead she pushed herself back up, grunting as she stumbled on the now blood slicked floor. Her clothes were drenched again and the coppery smell of blood had filled the air in those thirty seconds, a satisfying scent so long as the blood wasn't her own.

Turning, she looked down at the only thug still living, his face pale as he grimaced in pain as fresh blood poured unimpended from his severed artery. With a disgusted face, Jack kicked him as hard as she could in the chest, hearing the crack of bones as the impact smashed a rib.

"Told you not to fucking mess with me," she spat, fisting her hands and stepping away. "Warned you and everything, but you just had to push it."

_Fucking assholes, now my blades are gonna rust. Shit. I need a beer._

So she turned from the blood and the bodies, making her way back out into the streets and the glare of the sun as it rose over the horizon.

She stumbled back into hercastle by noon, muscles aching and her shirt reeking of dried blood and sweat. Trudging through the crumbling door frame, she hoisted herself slowly up the rope and onto the balcony, pausing a moment to listen to her stomach rumble.

_Damn, I hungry. Haven't eaten since what, yesterday? No, not even. Had to have been the day before._

Grumbling, she drifted into her safe haven, past the bed and into the bathroom, kicking the handle on the pump to start the water flow. It creaked as she started peeling off her clothes, tossing them into the sink to wash later on. The water, cold and clear, came pouring down the pipes and into the shower by the time she'd kicked off her blood encrusted boots.

Grimacing, Jack stepped under the icy spray, gritting her teeth against the cold but feeling rather grateful that she didn't have to go around covered in blood. She let the water flow over her body, rinsing her hair and making sure she was completely drenched before picking up the cracked bar of soap on the floor. Sighing, she washed away the blood and dirt, then lathered the soap into her hair, wishing she had proper shampoo.

Once that was done, she stepped out of the shower stall, dripping from head to toe as she snatched up her clothes and tossed them under the spray. That done she grabbed her one and only towel, wrapping it around herself, catching a glimpse of herself in the cracked mirror. Her hair was almost black when wet, though dry it was a shade of dark reddish-brown curls that were a pain in the ass to brush out. She had thought about cutting it again, maybe going back to her old ways of pretending to be a guy, but there was no way she could pass that off now. Despite the toughness being stuck in this war had driven into her, there were a few decidedly feminine aspects of her appearance that couldn't be concealed.

Sighing, Jack went back into her room and pulled out her secondary pair of clothes, donning them before going back into the bathroom to wash the blood out from the others. That task took her more than an hour, during which she contemplated the past few hours. Then, when the full weight of what she had done to those three thugs came crashing onto her, which was about the time she was rinsing out her shirt, she burst out laughing.

_I killed someone with a fucking pencil! A pencil! I bet even **he** couldn't top that!_

Jack stopped laughing at the thought of him, finding herself lying on her back in the bathroom, eyes towards the ceiling and the shirt she was rinsing clutched to her chest. She continued to stare up at the roof, tracing the cracks in the plaster in her mind while simultaneously trying not to drown in regret.

_Oh yeah, Jack. Keep wallowing in self-pity. I am so fucking sure Riddick would be impressed with that. Hell, who the fuck says **he** cares anyways?_

Tossing the wet shirt aside, Jack rolled over onto her stomach, ignoring the hunger pangs and pushing herself up. Without a sound, she crept into her room and flopped onto the bed. She reached under the mattress for the knife that she kept hidden there and brought it out to examine. Holding it before her eyes she twirled the blade in her hand, admiring the way the sharp edge glinted in the light and imagining the damage she could do with it. She sure could have used it when those fuckers tried their shit earlier, but she wasn't complaining.

_Hell, I found another use for writing utensils, ain't that so fucking funny?_

Jack burst out laughing again, but the laughter soon turned to dry sobs that she muffled by turning her face into her pillow. In the end she fell asleep, exhausted and hating herself.


	5. CH Four : Welcome to Purgatory

Note : My muses are currently at war with the plot bunny ninjas, which is why this chapter came out a little later than all the others. To answer that nagging question you all are definitely asking - Yes, Riddick will eventually be in this story. However the next two or three chapters will probably still be only Jack, cause it's gonna take a whole lot to get off that planet.

**Valley of Death**

Chapter Four : Welcome to Purgatory

_Jack be nimble._

A bullet whistled past her ear, striking the wall above her causing little chunks of concrete and dust to come trickling down onto her head like snow. Quickly she dodged around a crumbling corner, narrowly dodging the next round of fire as her heart hammered itself against the inside of her rib cage. It was a week since the incident with the pencil and she had, not regrettably, left Hell in favor of 'the City formerly known as Verdan'. Unfortunately for her, the place was also the major stamping grounds of one of the warring factions known as the Core, and they apparently didn't like her sneaking around that much.

Jack ducked into the nearest doorway, placing the wall between her and the guns, not that this helped very much. They would easily guess where she'd gone to, after all there weren't that many places where she could hide. In the particular section of the city she had chosen to walk in through most of the buildings were bombed out and crumbling like back in Hell. The only difference was the patrols and that perimeter fence that had been oh so easily bypassed by a simple pair of wire cutters.

The fact that she'd gotten past that little defense of theirs was probably what had pissed them off so much. Taking a deep breath, she chanced a look outside the door and was greeted by another shower of bullets. She jumped back into the building and looked around, taking in the cracked tile floor and the hollowed out shell of what used to be some kind of reception desk. Dust, dirt, and minuscule pieces of glass littered the ground and there were cracks in the once white plaster walls. The building had once been a hotel, not that it mattered much to her, she was just searching for another way to escape before they came barreling in, guns blazing.

_Jack be quick._

"Shit, shit, shit!" she hissed to herself, gritting her teeth as she stumbled away from the door, nearly losing her footing as her boots skidded on the glass. Kneeling low as she passed a window, she traversed the room, having spotted a gaping doorway that she hoped might lead someplace useful. She paused outside of the next room, hearing the sound of the soldier's voices outside. It was enough to spur her on and she dashed through, finding herself in the darkened shadow of the maintenance stairwell. The metal stairs were slightly rusted with peeling blue paint and cobwebs stuck between the railings, but they rose up for five floors, ending at the roof.

Sparks rang out as a bullet struck the railing and Jack, given no escape route but upwards, scrambled up those steps as fast as she possibly could. If she'd had the time, she would have stopped to marvel at how much faster she could run when the alternative was death. Sparks flew at her feet as she reached the second floor and she let out a pained shout, feeling a metal fragment digging itself into her leg.

_FUCK!_

She staggered, nearly falling face first into the steps as the pain bit at her leg, but she caught herself on the rail. Pulling herself back up she kept on running, forcing herself to ignore the pain and the blood that was now freely flowing down her leg. She could hear the metallic clank of heavy boots chasing her now, but she dared not look back. Jack focused on looking up, mentally shoving her muscles into action with each and every step, making the pain take a back seat.

One foot up and then the other, picking up the pace when a bullet smashed into the wall a few steps down. Never once did she pause to ask herself why they were wasting their time chasing her down. That question wouldn't nag her until later because right now she just had five more steps until she hit the roof access door. She hoped someone up there liked her enough to ensure that there wasn't a lock.

Jack hit the door, her hand grabbing the handle and yanking back to find that the hinges had rusted through. It nearly fell on top of her, but she managed to twist out of the way and it instead went falling back down the steps with a crash. Ignoring it and the shouts of the soldiers still chasing her, she leapt through the frame and out onto the roof, running around the side of the door and only stopping a foot short of the ledge.

There were lower buildings all around the broken down hotel she saw, but the air between them was empty and the fall instantly regrettable. And then the bullets started flying again.

_Jack, you'd better jump over that fucking candlestick, 'cause guess what! Those guys in the uniforms, they're shooting at YOU!_

She ran. Not like before, hell, what she was doing before was jogging compared to the speed she pumped into her legs this time around. No, Jack ran towards the opposite ledge, not bothering to time it, not bothering to let herself be troubled by the fact that it was a long, long, long way to fall. Gravel flew up in waves behind her from the guns trying to chase her and out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the soldiers fall trying to turn and follow her movements. But that image didn't reach her mind until after she'd pushed off from the ledge, propelling herself into the air like some high jumper in an Olympic sport.

The world seemed to freeze for one infinitely long second and then, like a freight train the paved roof of the next building over came slamming into painful reality. Jack hit like a hammer and rolled, fresh pain shooting through her injured leg and the sting of fresh scrapes marring her arms. But she was alive enough to realize that they were still shooting.

So up to her feet she climbed again, running with a pronounced stagger now as she headed for the next ledge, this time finding a convenient fire escape that she scaled halfway down in less time than she could remember. Her leg was still trickling blood as she found herself clinging to an alleyway fence in order to climb through the window of the adjacent building. She could hear shouts, but they sounded so far away, like a badly tuned radio echoing in her head. Jack groaned as she fell into the inside of this new building, collapsing on the floor.

Exhaustion washed over her, but she fought it off in favor of seeing to her leg. She dug out her knife from her pocket and ripped away at her pant's leg so she could get at the wound. It wasn't as bad as it felt, probably because the metal was still stuck in there. Biting her lip, she dug it out with her knife, flicking away the bloodstained fragment with a pained grunt. She then cut off a piece of her shirt and wrapped it over the wound, having nothing to clean it with because she'd lost her bag and canteen in the earliest portion of the chase.

Sighing, she leaned back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling as the little voice in the back of her head began to rant.

_Should have gone around the other way like all the other civilians._

"I'm not a civilian," she muttered, staring at the blood dripping down the blade of the knife. Her blood. "Not even a fucking citizen."

_Should have stayed in Hell then, 'cause they obviously don't like you here._

"Oh yeah, and wind up dying when they do another fly-by. I don't think so."

_What were planning on doing, anyways? Stealing a ship? You've never even flown a ship, Jack. The most you know is how operate the comms and some minor navigational shit._

"Shut up."

_Just saying the truth. You can't fly a ship, so you can't do shit to get yourself out of this fucking mess. You're brilliant Jack. Brilliantly fucked up._

"Goddamn it, just shut up!"

She punched the floor, skinning her knuckles in the process and granting herself a blissfully painful silence in her head. She waited five minutes before shifting in her seat by the window, lying down on the floor and resting her head in her hands. Another ten minutes and she closed her eyes, listening to the seemingly distant creaks and shifts of the building. Fifteen more minutes, she was almost asleep and the voice spoke up again, whispering in her mind just as exhaustion claimed her.

_Should have never left New Mecca._


	6. CH Five : News Flash

Note : Sorry for the long time between updates. Here's some breaking news - I'm now 18 and I'm finally out of High School! FINALLY! Oh, and for all you reviewers who were wondering when he would show up, this chapter's for you. Thought a little change in perspective might help, don't know if I'll keep it this way though... Tell me what you think, even if its bad. 

**Valley of Death**

Chapter Five : News Flash

Somewhere above the light-harvesting planet known as Helion Prime, a news net screen flickered to life within the darkness of the planet's night cycle. A dozen headlines immediately began scrolling across the display, all irrelevant to Riddick's shining silver eyes. It wasn't exactly breaking news to him that some shit hole planet along the outer rim was at war; there was always someone fighting somewhere. He was familiar with war, enough to know that it was something he wanted to stay far away from.

It was the first time he'd been back to this system in seven years, the third time in all his life, and it still looked and felt the same as he remembered. This time, like last time, he was here because of a message from the holy man, a message concerning Jack.

_Always about her...seven fucking years and you can't stop thinking about her._

It was hard to admit but that girl had gotten to him. He'd always thought she was half-crazy, choosing him as her hero, but now that he thought about it the whole thing made perfect sense. She'd been a run away looking for someone to latch on to, someone who was strong enough to keep the bad shit she'd in her past hurt her again. The fact that she'd shaved her head to look like him still made him laugh and that look in her eyes made him stop.

_Shouldn't have left New Mecca._

The first message had arrived a month after he'd left them both on New Mecca, he remembered it well because he'd been stitching up bad cut on his arm from a run-in with some cocky ass son-of-a-bitch merc near Chor. He still recalled how cold the air had gone when he'd read it and how furious he'd been with himself because damned if it wasn't his fault.

Jack had gone missing not even three days after he'd left and the holy man had put off sending a message to Riddick in hopes that she would turn up. But she never did and she had left all her things, all of which were still there, sitting in that unused room at the back hall of the holy man's house. At the time Riddick had been sure that this meant she was dead and he'd spent a long while trying to track down whoever had killed her.

_But there was nothing to go on, no leads, no witnesses, and no dark alleys...not on Helion Prime._

At least until this new message had drawn him back here.

Riddick pulled up a week old news file and stared at the screen, reading it all over again, soaking in every detail.

**Kartos System - Faction Report #314**

_Kartos Core Military reported last week the hijacking of one of their main transport ships from Verdan Spaceport, currently under Core control. Normally such an incident would not be of much concern, but General Markos of the Core claims the ship's computer contained valuable information. The ship and its pilot were recovered unharmed on Chor three days ago, however the hijacker was nowhere to be found, neither was the computer's memory chip. The Core is offering 500k reward for the return of the chip and the capture of the hijacker..._

He stopped reading right then and pulled up one of the attached files, a rather clear still frame from the ship's onboard security camera system. It was bit odd that a transport ship would have a camera in the cockpit, but then again the whole situation was odd. But that single frame showed a familiar face, Jack's face, it had to be, no one else had such expressive eyes, angry and hurt as they appeared in that picture.

Those rage-full eyes reflected back the pain of a rough life, he knew because he'd seen that look many times before. Her hair had grown out long enough to be pulled back into a tangled mess of a ponytail. It was obvious she'd been through hell, there were dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and as he stared at that picture one question kept running through his mind.

_Damn Jack, where are you now?_

Riddick had thought she might head back to New Mecca, as had the holy man. She hadn't shown up, which meant one of two things. Jack had either been killed or something else was going on.

He really hoped it was the latter.


	7. CH Six : Mercs

Note : Sorry 'bout the wait. I've been a bit busy with graduation type shit, which shall now no longer be getting in the way. No, I didn't kill anyone. My Grad Ceremony was last night, so yeah. No more distractions for the time being.

**Valley of Death**

Chapter Six : Mercs

Chor, another place Riddick hadn't seen in seven years, but the most likely place to start this new hunt. The planet wasn't the most respectable in the galaxy, but it wasn't the dingiest either; it had just the right amount of shadows to balance out the light. It was places like these where it was relatively easy to find someone who knew a little bit of everything, for the right price anyways.

The bar was called _Twilight_ and it was your typical shithole filled with every kind of scum imaginable, from the drug dealers to the brawlers looking for someone to beat the shit out of or the dollar store whores doing their nightly rounds. It was a grungy place with only one thing going for it, the fact that it had every alcoholic beverage ever invented on the menu mounted on the wall behind the bar. Riddick sat in one of the darkest corners on the second level as was his custom, his goggles stuck in his back pocket as he waited; but the waiting was cut short.

There was a click, recognizable as the sound of a gun hammer being pulled back into position. Riddick didn't turn his head, just silently dropped one hand from the table to his pocket, retrieving the familiar weight of his shiv. He heard the two half-hesitant steps of someone coming closer and stood, causing those steps to cease.

A scowl-faced guy in his mid-twenties with curly black hair and a scar cutting a pale sliver of a triangle through the stubble on his chin stared at him, pulse rifle aimed at his chest. The guy wore a jet black long coat with frayed bottom edges, padlocks in place of the conventional straps and zippers, and ripped off sleeves exposing his bare arms. There was an Ace of Spades ringed by a circle of barbed wire tattooed on his right bicep and a hand-held pulse pistol strapped in a holster on his leg as a back-up weapon. It didn't take very many brain cells to figure out the guy was a merc.

_Green one by the look of it too. Can see the uncertainty in his eyes, probably doesn't know what the fuck he's gotten himself into._

Riddick let out a low laugh, stepping out from his table, a movement that caused the merc to back up, eyes flicking from side to side as if searching for an escape route. In those few seconds that he had looked away, Riddick closed the gap between him, his freehand yanking the gun out of the merc's hands. He flipped it back, swinging the butt of it into the other man's chest, knocking him to the floor.

Stunned, the merc clutched his chest in pain, struggling to regain his footing and get away at the same time. Riddick raised his shiv, prepared to drive it into the merc's throat, when another sound made him freeze. For a mere second he wasn't sure what it was, but then he recognized it to be laughter.

_What the fuck?_

The merc was laughing at up at him like being seconds away from death was the funniest thing in the universe. With a growl, Riddick seized him by the collar and slammed him against the wall, pressing the blade of his shiv against the merc's throat.

"What the fuck are you laughing at, Ace?" he growled, gritting his teeth as the merc cracked a grin.

"Checkmate," Ace spat and suddenly there was a sharp pain tearing through Riddick's left shoulder, followed by a similar pain in his right side. Cursing, he dropped the merc and slapped a hand to his shoulder, clawing at the skin. The pain doubled and he stumbled with it, bringing his hand back with the remains of some kind of metal dart.

_Not a tranq…fuck…_

Everything seemed to get louder, especially the new footsteps crossing the floor. Riddick found that he couldn't move anymore, not because of the pain but because of what had been in those darts. The pain was just a side effect and he cursed at himself for falling for the ruse. Of course it was a trap, there was always a trap, so why hadn't he seen it?

"Not a good feeling is it?" Ace said from somewhere above him. "Not being able to move."

His boot went into Riddick's stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. There was more laughter, this time echoing out from Ace's companions, and Riddick felt that familiar rage boiling up. All thoughts of his previous mission were abandoned. He wanted nothing more than to sink his shiv into their flesh and watch them bleed all over the floor.

"So, Ace, how long you think he's down?" asked one of the new arrivals, whom Riddick couldn't see.

"Two shots of that shit?" Ace asked, contemplating. "Three hours. You and Hawk load 'em onto the ship, I'm gonna go finish my beer."


	8. CH Seven : Striking Back

Disclaimer : Not mine and it depresses me.

Note : An update, which has a bit of blood in it. Yay!

**Valley of Death**

Chapter Seven – Striking Back

The greatest place in the world to hide is where everyone expects you not to be. Before the war, even before running away from home, Jack had been rather good in this particular area. Hide and seek had been her favorite game, but back then it had been hard to find anyone who wouldn't give up after the first round of being the seeker. No one ever thought to look under the kitchen sink or behind the water heater.

_Only one person ever found me…_

Jack sighed and leaned back against the wall, watching the spaceport for any sign suspicious enough to warrant moving her new hideout. She was in one of the old hangars on the backside of the port, the rundown side that only got used in cases of overflow for shipping. That hadn't happened in a while, not since she'd managed to steal a ship where the pilot was more worried about staying alive than following orders.

She'd taken the computer chips from the ship as a joke, but apparently they had something important on them, so now, according to the news reports, she had a nice little price on her head.

_Like Riddick's only they're not going to take me to the slam…nope. Hijacking in the middle of a planetary civil war…that's treason, isn't it? That's automatic death sentence, no lawyers, no judge, no trial. Just a firing line and maybe a last cigarette…_

Jack let out a laugh and kicked her foot against the wall, listening to the echo the sound created in the empty space of the hangar. She looked back out over the runways and noticed a ship parked near the edge of the dividing line between the modern port and her territory. It was steel grey with more than a few scorch marks burnt into the paint along with what appeared to be more than the standard amount of weaponry for a civilian ship.

Shrugging, she grabbed in her pack for the pair of binoculars she'd managed to knick off some tourist earlier that week and turned her attention back on the ship, peering through the lenses.

"Definitely not civilian," she muttered to herself, surveying a particularly nasty looking gun turret mounted on the underside of the left wing. Movement at the back of the ship caught her attention, and she turned her gaze to see a small group of people waiting outside for the loading ramp to lower. By the weaponry they carried, Jack could come to a certain conclusion about what they were.

_Mercs…_

Jack was about to turn and put the binoculars away when she caught sight of something that made her blood freeze. Eyes wide, she looked back, catching a glimpse of what the mercs were dragging onto the ship.

"Riddick."

With that statement, she shoved the binoculars back in her bag and threw the straps over her shoulders before scrambling down from her perch in the rafters. She hit the ground at a run, dashing out the back way and into the shadows between the buildings that would take her closer to the new side of the port. As she ran she tried not to think about the fact that she had no plan or that the only thing remotely dangerous that she had with her besides her boot knives was the combat knife she'd carried back on Kartos.

_Those are not going to do much good against four guys with guns, so what the fuck are you thinking Jack?_

Ignoring herself, Jack skidded to a stop at the side of one building, glancing around the corner to see where she was in relation to the merc ship. It was sitting maybe thirty meters away, the ramp still lowered.

_And why is it still down? Hell, if I were them I'd have secured the ship by now…_

She took in a deep breath, steadying her lungs after the run even though it had been a relatively mild one compared to that chase back on Kartos. She had a scar on her leg from that one, but thankfully the damage hadn't been too bad. Thinking back on that, it was hard to believe that she had managed to even survive to be standing there right then.

She stared at the loading ramp and glanced around. The port was empty except for a few people mingling around the gate a long ways off.

_Shit, are they waiting for someone? Yeah, that's it. No way there's only four of them._

With that thought she began to formulate her plan, walking away from the wall towards the ship. Her steps carried her to the end of the ramp and for a moment she stood there, peering inside. She heard voices, someone laughing, and the what sounded like someone's fist hitting flesh. At that she stepped onto the ramp, climbing it as quietly and quickly as she could, reaching the top in time to catch a snatch of the conversation.

"Shit, where the fuck is Ace?" asked the raspy voice of someone who'd smoked too many cigarettes. "Gonna smack him one, the stupid shit. Three hours my ass, the parylitics already wearing off. I do not want to listen to this fuckhead making smartass comments while I'm flying."

Jack allowed herself a grin as she glanced about the back of the ship, taking in her surroundings. Apparently the mercs had turned this section of the ship into makeshift living quarters, for there were a few cots to one side and what appeared to be a small kitchen in the opposite corner. Creeping silently in, she dropped her bag on one of the cots, still listening as she looked around.

"Maybe you should have read the label, Varnes," rumbled a familiar voice and Jack snickered silently to herself. Riddick sounded exactly as she remembered.

"Shut up," snapped Varnes raspy voice accompanied by the sound of fists hitting flesh she'd heard earlier. "Leon, go get Ace so we can get the hell out of here."

"Sure thing," muttered another voice, less raspy with more of a dim air.

Footsteps rang out in the hall and Jack stepped to the side of the wall, pulling out her knife as the sound grew closer. She only saw the side of the merc one instant before she let the blade fly out, jamming it at an angle in the back of his neck, right at the base of the skull. He died almost instantly, body falling forward with a thud that was way too loud against the metal floor.

Blood pooled around his head as Jack bent to retrieve her knife, glancing down the hall, but the blade got stuck against the bone. The tip of it snapped off and Jack let out a curse, then mentally kicked herself.

"What the fuck was that?" came Varnes' voice echoing down the hall, more footsteps accompanying it. Jack set her knife aside and stood, stepping away from the dead merc and towards the small kitchen. She grabbed the first thing she laid eyes on and turned back to the door just as the merc stepped through. "What the-"

He looked at her, then down at leon and the broken knife on the floor, then back up, a bewildered expression on is face. In that moment of hesitation, Jack lashed out, kicking him in gut and knocking him back. The surprise lifted from Varnes' face and he made to go for his gun, but Jack punched him if the jaw, snapping his head back up long enough for him to see what was coming next.

The spoon that Jack had grabbed from the kitchen; she shoved it ito his eye and he let out a pained scream, arms thrashing out to throw her off. She let them hit her, twisting the spoon before yanking it back out with a sickening squelch. Varnes clawed at his face, blood and the jelly-like gooey substance that makes up the retina leaking out of his socket as he shouted.

His shrieks had drawn the last two mercs from the front of the ship running down the hall, but Jack was prepared this time, for in the process of rendering Varnes incapacitated she had also grabbed his gun. No sooner had the last two nameless ones stepped into the room did they find bullets tearing apart their vital organs. Jack emptied the clip, then spun and buried the heel blade of her right boot in Varnes' neck, cutting off his screams.

Looking around, she dropped the empty gun and walked over to loading ramp, glancing out at the docks to see that there was no one running to investigate the noise. Apparently the mercs had parked their ship far enough away from the rest of the docks for the noise to go unnoticed. Smirking, she closed the hatch and turned back into the ship, picking up her bag before stepping back over to Varnes' body.

He was still twitching slightly as she searched through his pockets, a small puddle of blood having formed from the gash in the side of his neck. She found a key card in the pocket of his shirt and stood, peering at it for a moment before turning to the front section of the ship. She paused just outside the doorway to take a look at the room, noting the cryo-jump seats mounted against the walls behind the cockpit.

_Cryo…I hate cryo…_

And there he was, chained up a lot like the time she'd first seen back on that hellhole planet, jet black goggles covering his eyes and a non-expression on his face. He also looked like he hadn't shaved in at least a week.

"You just going to stand there?" he asked, turning his head slightly to look at her.

"Maybe," Jack said, glancing down at the key card in her hands. "Maybe not."

"This isn't a game, Jack," Riddick growled. She blinked, surprised because she hadn't expected him to recognize her, which was exactly the reaction he'd been expecting apparently, for he smirked slightly. "You want to get out of here before the last one comes back, I suggest you undo these chains."


	9. Ch Eight : Ill Conversations

Disclaimer : I watched Pitch Black last night and discovered that, unfortunately, I don't own any of the characters. I do, however, own one of the little baby hammerheads. It's name is Doom.

Note : And now a response to a review, because it amused me.

JackieStarr – I agree with you on the fact that if the summary mentions sex readers will flock to it. Perhaps I should experiment with that. Cue thunder, lightning, dark clouds, and the evil sounding music. Here's an update just for you.

**Valley of Death**

ChapterEight : Ill Conversation

The second the chains were off Riddick made his way to the pilot's chair, glancing out the window before turning his attention to the controls. It didn't take him long to break the lock codes on the main control panel, which was slightly dissapointing, usually mercs had a better security system on their ships. It also annoyed him, that some half-assed dimwitted mercs had gotten the upperhand on him, if only for a short while.

_Dead now though…I can smell the blood…_

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jack climb into the co-pilot's chair and strap herself in. There were flecks of blood on her shirt and hands, but she didn't seem to pay attention to that fact. She looked up at him, her eyes settling on his face for a moment, before suddenly flicking away to stare past him.

"Uh, Riddick?" she asked, nodding towards the window. He turned to look and cursed, for the recognizable form of Ace was walking across the docks towards the ship.

"Hang on," he growled, kicking the engines into gear. They roared to life in an instant and not a second later did the comms starting screaming for him to shut the ship down. Riddick reached over and yank the cables out from the comm unit, ignoring the sparks that flew out in protest. The staticked yells from the control tower immediately ceased and he allowed himself a smirk.

"Could have just turned it off," Jack pointed out, wiping the grin off his face.

"You want to walk?" he asked, throwing her an annoyed glare. She quickly shook her head and bit back whatever retort she was going to throw in his face. "Didn't think so."

It didn't take long to pull out from the docks or even the port, the only thing that would have stood in the way of the ship was Port Security, but they were incredibly slow at realizing the fact that this particular ship wasn't supposed to be leaving yet. And it was rather amusing seeing Ace running after them on the runway, pulse rifle shots either missing completely or glancing uselessly off the outer hull.

Once clear of the planet, Riddick set a couple of courses into the nav computer and got up from the pilot's chair to look at Jack.

She wasn't looking at him, but was instead staring at something in her hands. It only took one glance to tell that the object in question that she was admiring was a metal spoon. The end of it was coated in sticky half-dried blood and it was bent slightly to the side.

_Improvisation…interesting…_

"Probably should have waited for that one to get back and killed him too," Jack commented, turning her gaze upwards to look at him. "But whatever. You going to say thankyou?"

"For what?" Riddick asked, leaning one hand on the back of the pilot's chair.

"What the fuck do you mean 'for what'?" she snapped, glaring at him. "For saving your ass, that's what!"

Riddick let out a laugh, shaking his head which seemed to make her even more pissed off.

"What's so funny?"

"You didn't 'save my ass' Jack," he told her with a grin.

"Oh, I didn't?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "So why were you in chains again? What were you going to do, annoy them to death with your collection of smart ass comments?"

"They'd have been dead the minute they used the cryo instead of the jump-drives," Riddick growled, amusement fading as he leaned towards her. "Now, I think you have a mess to clean up."

"Go clean it yourself," Jack snapped at him, keeping her glare steady. She let out a startled yelp as he seized her by the collar of her shirt and lifted her out of the chair, breaking the straps in the process. "What the- PUT ME DOWN!"

Riddick ignored her, hefting her over his shoulder and starting down the hall towards the back of the ship. She beat a fist against his back but it may as well have been bee sting for all the good it did. He stopped in the doorway, looking into the room to survey the damage, but he became distracted when Jack tried to jab the spoon into his side.

"PUT ME DOWN!"

_Okay…_

He flipped her back off his shoulder, snatching the spoon away before dropping her to the ground with a thud. If looks could kill, he would have been dead from the glare she was shooting him right then.

"Jerk."


	10. CH Nine : Arguments

Note : I'm alive, for those of you who care. This update is short, sorry. I haven't exactly had very much time for writing.

**Valley of Death**

Chapter Nine : Arguments

_Fuck it._

Jack sent an annoyed glare at the floor, or, to be more precise, the rather large stain on the floor. She supposed that she could burn it off, but there was nothing useful with which to create a hand made flamethrower. Sighing irritably, she turned on her heel and stomped back into the front portion of the ship only to stop in the doorway to point her glare at the back of Riddick's head.

She was still pissed off at him from before and decided to let loose a stream of verbal abuse that would possibly sum up just exactly how angry she actually was but as soon as she opened her mouth he spoke.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he inquired, not even glancing at her. He didn't really have to, as she could see that his reflection in the cockpit window was staring straight at her.

"In the back cleaning up," Jack replied, leaning against the doorframe. "Jerk."

"Not what I meant," Riddick growled at her.

"Yeah, I know," she responded, rolling her eyes. "Why the fuck should I tell you?"

He was out of the chair in an instant, almost faster than she could see but seven years on a war stricken planet generally does wonders for a person's reflexes. She was able to escape being trapped against the wall and was instead forced to take several steps back down the hall.

"Seven fucking years, Jack!" he informed her in a voice that wasn't exactly shouting but was in danger of it. "The holy man thinks you're dead, hell, I thought you were dead until I saw in the news that you fucking hijacked a ship."

"Well, it was that or get shot to pieces," she replied, a bit of sarcasm thrown in just for spice. "But really, why the fuck do you care? You didn't even say goodbye when you left!"

He glared at her.

She glared back.

The following silence was sharp enough to cut through butter.

_Aw, screw it…_

"I was on Kartos."

Riddick's glare narrowed, either because he knew how dangerous a place it had become or because he suspected she was lying. She didn't really care either way, actually.

"Amongst such scenic tourists destinations as the big crater, the other big crater, and the really, really big crater, plus some fun games like 'avoid the military' or 'loot the grocery store'."

She swore she saw a vein pop out somewhere on his forehead, but none-the-less she continued.

"Oh, and did I mention the ordinary every day things that have come in handy for escaping the grasps of the local pervs? You may now fear pencils, crowbars, bricks, and spoons."

_Okay there, I saw that twitch of the lips…think its funny do you?_

"You going to blame that shit on me?" Riddick asked, still glaring at her but maybe not so much as before. It was kind of hard to tell with him.

"Not really," Jack answered, suddenly feeling less angry. "I mean if I did, I wouldn't have helped, would I?"


End file.
